Page 5 of Garbage

Evan’s brow wrinkled. “But your name. What would you like me to call you?”

“I don’t know. Mo called me Buddy sometimes. Or C-Man.” Those were the best times.

“Would you like me to call you one of those? Or is there something you like better?”

No one had asked him before. But… he liked the possibility. He liked it a lot. “Can you choose?”

Evan blinked, before his face shifted to a wide smile. “That’s a big honor. Um… how about… CNS, you said? Kunz… Cons? Kinsey? Quincy?”

“Quincy.” He grabbed onto that one. “Can I have the same name as someone else?”

“Sure you can. Who do you know named Quincy?”

“He’s Mo’s grandson. She took him to the go-carts.” He didn’t know what those were, but Mo had laughed when she told him about it. “And she read him stories.” Those were memories he’d somehow managed to keep.

“Good, good,” Evan told him. “So Quincy. Nice to meet you, Quincy.” Evan took his hand off CNS… no, Quincy’s elbow, leaving it feeling cold. But then he stuck it out in front of him.

Ah, a handshake. He had a subroutine for that.

He extended his own hand, hoping it was clean. “Nice to meet you, Evan.”

Evan’s hand was just as warm on his palm, and all of Quincy’s programs took a little skip. At least three clock cycles.

“Now, this might take a while to discuss. Is there somewhere we can go to talk?”

Quincy looked out of the alley, where his truck waited. His partner, CNS-84-17, was probably still in the driver’s seat, waiting for his cue to move down the block. They weren’t supposed to idle anywhere for more than four minutes, unless it was due to traffic. This wasn’t good.

“I have to finish my work.” His words were coming smoother now. This was better. Like talking with Mo.

“Can you do it? It wouldn’t be wrong to say that you can’t. You need care.”

Quincy ran a diagnostic, then shut off the alerts that he couldn’t handle right now and logged the damage. “I can still work. I can get replacement parts at the depot.” He needed a new shaft for the bent piston in one of his claw arms, as well as the components to attach it. Hopefully they had them in stock, so he didn’t have to wait for months, like he had with his last repair.

And his beautiful shirt was rough and dirty now. He’d only had it for two months.

Evan released a breath. “I’m glad to hear it, but tell me if it gets to be too much. How much more is left on your shift?”

Quincy felt like… smiling? He’d never had someone ask about his repair status before, either. Was this what it was like being human?

He called up the map and checklist automatically in his mind. Mo used to ask him this all the time. “Eight more blocks. We’re almost done.”

“Excellent. Mind if I tag along?”

“You want to… collect garbage with me?” That wasn’t how it worked. Humans put out the trash and CNS units collected it. Well, human sanitation works and CNS units, but the human sanitation workers were gone now. Some of them had been angry, but Mo called it retirement—said she’d get to enjoy her pension.

“How about I walk with you while you work. We can talk. Then we’ll see where things go.”

This had gone from the worst day of his life to the best, all in an instant. “I would like that, Evan.”

Evan smiled at him again, which had to be the most times anyone had smiled at him in a day, unless Mo was telling a funny story.

He felt like he was losing something when Evan suddenly looked away, eyes distant like Mo or the dispatchers got when they were listening to their earpieces. “Oh, hang on. Yes, Officer. The attackers ran away. You should have everything recorded.” He looked at Quincy. “He doesn’t want to press charges yet, but I’ll talk with him. Yes, send it to me. You have my contact information, and I’ll be available. I’m ending the recording now. Thank you.”

Evan’s smile returned as quickly as it had gone. “Shall we?”

Quincy figured that he meant are you ready to get back to work? because that’s what pretty much all invitations from Mo had meant, so he nodded and started walking.

That was… nice. Good. His subroutines had settled back into the background, taking care of themselves so he didn’t have to think about them. At the first trash can, he paused to watch Evan. He’d never had someone watch him work.